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Where icy screams vent , lost alone in deaths door

He, the dark one awakened,He roamed in desolate wings

Evil shrouds her in the dark, blended with moss

a timeless wrath, fearless ruins

Her raven hair cascades over, I live in the trees

pale and delicate shoulders, and her

full scarlet lips part slightly, to taste the

red tears , streamed down her pale face

Now alone, my cry of mercy falls upon howling eyes

Now a night of ecstasy, his feeding

She walked though each cursed hall

Night Ritual , he waited for she

Around, all around, the storm clouds gather

It called her , she screams from the tombs ,”I walk alone”

blood drips, dreams scattered demon seeds

to the wicked earth that is my prison

In a haze of shock, wings in shuddered corners

while death laughs cruelly, pain returns

Now alone, my cry of mercy falls upon howling eyes

This is my doom, dreamscape

© 2016, Deborah Shepard. All rights reserved.

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5 Comments on "Wicked"

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stark horror imagery . bold darkness
you write it so well!


Fantastic a 5star bookmark for me, such gorgeous horror drips from the page, the other extreme to your beautiful romance my friend, Bravo! :)

Pagan Paul

Amazing. Have bookmarked :)

Robert Haigh

Surreal, Gothic horror! Dramatic poetry, and quite compelling!